Watch And Learn
by dcat8888
Summary: Set in 2008, another mystery or two are solved.


Watch and Learn

by dcat

It's A/U time again. It is a stand alone story, but you might want to read my story GM first, as this one follows it in time progression.

The cast of characters are: Milt – age 88, Mark – age 52, Mark's wife Christy (formerly Miller) – age 48, Mitch (Mitchell Stephen) McCormick – age 19, Molly (Molly Teresa) McCormick – age 17, JT (James Thomas) McCormick – age 15, Jack (John Milton) McCormick – age 10, Anna Kate McCormick – age 6 The year is 2008.

I do not own the characters of Hardcastle and McCormick

OOOOO

Mark McCormick quickly strode into the hospital emergency entrance with Jack McCormick in tow, struggling to keep up with him. Mark had the sleeves of his button down shirt rolled up on his forearms and his tie was slightly loosened. The matching suit coat he had worn to court earlier in the day, still was on lying on the backseat of his car. The youngest son of Mark and Christy was still wearing his little league baseball uniform, replete with dirt and dust, from sliding into second base repeatedly in today's mid-afternoon sun and haze and he still was wearing his rubberized cleats, which were now causing him to slip and slide on the tile floor of the hospital.

"Dad, wait up," he said, raising his voice from about a half a dozen steps behind the gait of his father.

Mark glanced back to see him nearly take a head first tumble causing him to realize he needed to slow down. "Jack, I asked you to change into your regular play shoes in the car. Come on now, I told you that Grandpa had an accident."

"I'm sorry Dad, I just forgot to change my shoes," Jack said attempting to catch up to his Father. "But I still can't go as fast as you can. You're way bigger than I am. Did Mitch say that Grandpa is okay?" His thoughts were continuing to change directions as he spoke.

McCormick didn't give him an answer as he kept walking and finally approached the reception area. Before he could ask the receptionist anything, his oldest son came out of seemingly nowhere to greet him.

"Dad, it wasn't my fault, I don't know what happened," Mitch McCormick began, his face full of sadness.

Mark put his hand out to his son's shoulder, "Relax Mitch, I'm not blaming you for anything. Do you know how he's doing? Have you heard anything yet?" McCormick's thoughts were now focused on Milt's condition.

Mitch hung his head down, "No, they haven't told me anything yet. And I've asked a couple of times now. They think I'm just a kid. But Dad, I did exactly what I was supposed to do. I called the ambulance and got him here right away. Honest Dad."

Mark looked out of the corner of his eye and saw the rest of his children in the nearby waiting room. They must have been sitting and waiting impatiently, but now, as they spotted him, they were all on their feet, anxious and worried but relieved that their father had arrived. "Let me see what I can find out," he paused and told Jack, who still stood by his side, "Jack, go have a seat with your brothers and sisters. I'll be right over there." Jack obediently agreed and slowly made his way toward the waiting room.

Mitch waited to be told to go over by his siblings too, but was more than surprised that his father didn't brush him aside and allowed him to hear about his grandfather's condition. "Honest Dad, I swear," Mitch continued on, "I don't know what he was doing, I thought he was inside."

Mark could tell his usually calm, self assured and laid back son was clearly upset by the whole ordeal. The six months Mitch had spent living at Gulls Way was really beginning to pay off. Mitch was more talkative and even seemed a little happier since he had moved into the gatehouse. Maybe the little housing unit had some sort of special power. It sure worked magic for Mark McCormick. Best of all, Mitch had registered for classes at the local community college in an attempt to get a GED and was regularly attending, something he hadn't done until now.

"Did you try to call Mom?" Mark asked his son, who stood shoulder to shoulder next to him.

Mitch nodded. "Yeah, about a hundred thousand times, all I get his her voice mail. Molly said she's doing a presentation this afternoon, so she's probably unreachable. I'm sorry I had to call you Dad."

"Nothing to be sorry for Mitch, you did the right thing," Mark gave him a pat on his shoulder and took a step forward toward the desk. "Excuse me, could you tell me the condition of Milton Hardcastle?"

"Are you a relative sir?" the clerk asked him.

McCormick had heard this question too many times over the years. He hated having to give the explanation. For a long time he never knew how to answer. Now, without thought he simply answered, "Yes, I am," and left it at that. The woman behind the counter could draw her own conclusions.

"Just a minute," she answered as she shifted her chair around to her computer work station where she began to type some information into her computer. Without bothering to turn back around to address him, she said, "He's stable. The doctor is still with him right now, but I will let him know that you're waiting."

"Thank you," Mark said, seeing her finally turn back around. He mustered up a pleasant smile for her which she returned as well. McCormick put his arm around his son's shoulder and led him over to the rest of his clan in the waiting area.

"Dad, they've been in there for over a half hour already," Mitch said as they walked along. "His head was bleeding a lot. It was pretty scary."

"There's no sense in getting all worked up Mitch, we just have to wait. You know when you get a little older like Grandpa, the doctors take extra time with you, just to check everything out." A million other thoughts were running through Mark's head, but he knew he had to keep his wits about him in front of his children.

Anna Kate was the first one to jump up from her chair and run over to her father who was now approaching the group. "Daddy, Grandpa's head was bleeding," she declared as Mark scooped her up in his arms and gave her a tiny kiss. Her unconditional, tight-little hug always did wonders for him. "Did he die?" she added.

"No sweetheart, Grandpa's not dead. But we have to sit quietly and wait until the doctor comes out and tells us how he is."

"I'm glad he's not dead, I want to tell him about what happened at school today. We read a story about the Lone Ranger."

"And he'll want to hear all about it," he said, giving her cheek a kiss and setting her back down and she quickly climbed back up into her chair.

"So Grandpa's okay?" James asked.

"Right now he is," Mark said again, "Who wants to tell me what happened?" He glanced around to each one of their faces. They in turn all looked toward Mitch.

And Mitch got defensive. "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING." His voice rose. "I was working."

"Dad, I was shooting baskets," James said. "Grandpa came out and was playing with me for a little while, but then he said it was too hot out in the sun."

"Where'd he go from there?" Mark asked.

"I think he went into the gatehouse for a drink of water," James continued. "After that, I don't know either, I got a text message from Peter, so I went behind the house to call him back, but Mitch had set out the ladder and you know how Grandpa gets when he sees stuff out and no ones around." Mark made a mental note to talk to James about the use of a cellular phone.

Mitch was quick to come to his own defense. "I went inside for a drink of water Dad. Grandpa knew I was working and not slacking off. He and James wanted me to play a game of cut-throat, but I said no, and you know I did James," he pointed his finger at his brother. "THIS _ISN'T_ MY FAULT," Mitch pleaded before his family.

Mark quickly decided to defuse the situation. He knew Mitch was upset. "Molly, come here," Molly rose up and stood next to Mark, "Take your brothers and sister down to the cafeteria and have a soda okay?" He pulled out his wallet and handed over several bills to her.

"You heard Dad, let's go. The grown-up's need their space. I can't wait till I turn 18 and someone listens to me," Molly said, jumping to her feet to shag her siblings out of the waiting area.

Mark made another mental note, this one for Molly, familial responsibilities don't end when you're 18. "Listen, you all need to mind Molly, remember, you're in a hospital. Be respectful," Mark reminded them.

"Daddy, please tell Grandpa about the Lone Ranger when you see him?" Anna Kate said, going up to Mark and giving him a kiss.

"I will sweetheart. Now, go with your sister and be good."

"We'll be fine Dad, just take care of Grandpa," Molly added.

After they exited Mark motioned for Mitch to sit down. "So, what happened?"

"Dad, I really don't know, I'm telling you the truth. I'm not his babysitter, which he reminds me about nearly every day. And I agree. I can't watch him all the time, I gotta respect that, you understand. You better than anyone know how he is."

McCormick more than understood when it came to Milt. "All right then, where were you?" Mark tried a different approach.

"I was there, at the house, working, like I'm supposed to, like I've already told you," he said, again, taking the defensive mode.

"Mitch, I'm not mad, I just am trying to figure out what happened. What were you working on?" Mark took a step back in order to get to the facts.

"I had finished the back lawn and I was going to start on the gutters, because it's 'gutter season'" he made air quotes around 'gutter season' to let Mark know that was a directive from Milt, "So I went and got the ladder and set it up against the side of the house."

"Where was Grandpa when you were doing this?"

"I thought he was in the house. I already told you that."

"And James?" Mark asked. "Where was he?"

"Shooting baskets, like he said, and before you ask, Molly and Anna weren't there yet. Molly was picking her up from school. You're such a lawyer Dad. Am I on trial here?"

"It seems to me right now Mitch that I have to be a lawyer, because it's the only way you're going to tell me anything and no, you're not on trial. I'm simply on a fact finding mission. Grandpa's 88 years old, he shouldn't be climbing up ladders to clean gutters."

"Dad, I've been living there for six months. I watch Grandpa like a hawk. I don't let him do that sort of thing. I know he's getting up there in age, I see it every day. But you know him, if he makes up his mind to do something, he's gonna do it and I'm not gonna be able to stop him."

"Did he go up the ladder?"

"I don't know, but I don't really think so, he usually just gruffs out his orders of what he wants me to do, he doesn't usually take action, at least he hasn't in a long time, he's more of a pointer," Mitch was frustrated. "That ladder was only out there for a few minutes. I went inside to get a bottle of water and I went looking for him to tell him that I had finished the lawn to get his seal of approval and I couldn't find him, so I looked outside and didn't see him out there either. I thought he was watching a movie."

"And you looked all over the house?"

Mitch nodded, "I even went upstairs."

"What about the laundry room?"

"Dad he wasn't in the house. Trust me."

"Where did you find him?" Mark was becoming frustrated.

"I didn't find him, Molly and Anna Kate found him."

"Was he conscious?"

"Sort of, you know Grandpa, he didn't want any one fussing over him, but we couldn't get him up, he was all dizzy-like and I think he might have bruised some ribs or something and like Anna said, his head was bleeding. I told Molly to call an ambulance and we all followed him over here. He didn't fight with the paramedics at all, so we knew he was hurting. We did do the right thing didn't we Dad?"

Mark gave him a smile. "Of course you did exactly the right thing Mitch."

"I wanted Molly, Anna and James to stay at the house, but Anna was crying and we all were upset. I guess I just thought we should all be together."

Mark leaned over to his son and gave him a hug. "Mitch, you did exactly what I would have done. I'm real proud of you." He stopped and made sure he looked his son right in the eye and he saw Mitch almost smile. "We'll find out soon enough how he's gonna be and knowing Grandpa, he'll be as ornery as ever. It's just probably an accident, no ones fault." He gave him an extra pat on his back as he pulled back.

Mitch looked him square in the face, "I've left dozens of messages for Mom too. And I'm sorry I had to pull you and Jack from his game. I know how hard it is for you to get away to see any of us in sports and stuff. I thought you'd want to be here though."

"Mom will be here soon and as far as Jack's game goes, they were up by 15 runs, so nothing to worry about there. He didn't miss anything, except the final lopsided score. Why don't you go see how they're all doing down in the cafeteria. Molly's not quite as adept as you are at getting them to all behave. I'll wait here for word."

Mitch stood up reluctantly. "Honestly Dad, I don't know what happened. I was doing everything just like he wanted. He said the lawn was looking great, better than when you used to do it," he couldn't resist a jab at his father, which Mark caught right away. "There was no reason for him to go up the ladder, if he did."

Mark stood up beside him, still an inch or so taller. "Don't worry about it now, it happened and it's over and he'll be okay."

"Was he always like this?"

"By this, do you mean independent, demanding, difficult, challenging, tough, exacting, and insistent?" McCormick asked.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Worse," McCormick cracked. He gave Mitch another hug and sent him on his way.

McCormick watched his son walk away and after a couple of moments, sat back down in the chair he had occupied and let out a deep breath. It was another five minutes when a nurse came out and asked him if he was there for Milton Hardcastle.

"Yes, I am," he said, quickly rising. "How is he?"

"The receptionist said you were a relative?"

Mark nodded, "He was my legal guardian so to speak, years ago and we've sort of unofficially adopted each other over the years. A non-traditional family you might say. We're all we've both got." He explained as he walked along beside the nurse.

"Then you're Mark McCormick?"

"Yes, that's me."

"He gave us the same sort of explanation. You know its okay just to say, he's my father or he's my son after all this time." She let the statement hang in the air between them momentarily and then added, "He's been asking for you since he was brought in."

"So he's conscious?"

"Yes, he'll be fine, mostly just shaken up, but he has two broken ribs and we had to stitch up a laceration on his forehead. Head wounds tend to bleed a lot, so I'm sure it looked a lot worse than what it was. The doctor wants to keep him for another hour to monitor his blood pressure, it was a little high when he came in, but after that you can take him home."

"Yeah, he takes some medication for that, did he tell you?" She nodded that he had. Well, he'll be happy to hear that he can go home."

"He's right inside here," the nurse stopped at door. "You can stay as long as you like."

McCormick pushed the door open and saw the Judge lying in the bed. They must have removed his shirt, because he was wearing a hospital gown and his eyes were closed. There was a small plastic bag that must have had his clothes in it, sitting on the chair beside his bed. A large bandage covered his forehead. Mark walked over closer to the bed and the Judge immediately opened up his eyes when he heard the movement.

"It's about damn time McCormick, where the hell have you been?" Milton C. Hardcastle was now wide awake and open for business.

"I'm doing good Judge, how are you feeling?" Mark chuckled at his abrasive opening question.

Milt cleared his throat. "Are your kids okay?" Hardcastle softened his tone. "I remember Anna was crying. I didn't mean to upset them. It was all so stupid."

"The kids are all fine. They're worried about you, just like me. So what did the doctor say?"

"Me? There's no need to worry, I just did a dumb thing, that's all. I had to have some stitches and a couple of busted up ribs. They got me all taped up. And I ruined a shirt, there's a bloody shirt right there," he nodded toward the bag on the chair. "I feel stupid."

"Yeah, you climbed the ladder to clean the gutters didn't you?" McCormick asked him. "How many times do I have to tell you that's why Mitch is there? He'll do all that stuff, just like his dear old Dad used to do. You should know by now that the McCormick's won't let you down."

"A ladder? What are you babbling about McCormick? I didn't climb any ladder."

"Mitch was going to clean the gutters and stopped to take a break first, and he went inside, you must have went outside and what, thought he left out the ladder or deserted his assigned task?" Mark watched the Judge frown. "You don't remember any of this do you? Maybe you have a concussion and you need to stay overnight." Mark leaned down to have a peak under the forehead bandage, but had his hands pushed away by Milt.

"Would you get away? I'm not staying overnight, there's nothing wrong with me or my head. And I don't have Alzheimer's. I remember everything. I know I can run rings around you and your pea brain most of the time. I didn't climb any ladder. For crying out loud, I'm 88 McCormick, I don't do ladders anymore. I gave that up when you showed up on my doorstep years ago."

"Yeah, but jumping off rooftops wasn't out of the question back then right?" Mark frowned at what could possibly have occurred as he couldn't keep his eyes off his best friend lying in a hospital bed. It always stopped him cold. "Well, if you weren't out on the ladder what happened? The kid's don't have a clue, or are they lying to me?"

"Oh, your kids aren't lying, you worry too much. None of this is their fault, at least not entirely." He tried to sit up a little in the bed, but the pain from the broken ribs prevented him from moving without a quick assist from Mark.

"Take it easy Judge, you have a couple of busted ribs."

"I know, I know," he grimaced, "Thanks kiddo," Hardcastle said, as he leaned back against the pillows.

"Mitch said you weren't in the house, so where were you and what were you doing?"

"I was in the house."

"Hardcase, he said he went in and checked every room, upstairs and down, you weren't inside. I really think I should get the doctor back in here. You're not remembering anything here."

"Would you just listen to me, you never listen. Give me a minute to explain, will ya? For being a big hot shot lawyer, I would have thought you'd have better listening skills." Hardcastle began, "I went outside to shoot baskets with James, but it was so hot out there I didn't stay out there for too long. Then I went inside the gatehouse because your son always borrows my DVD of 'The Cowboys' and I wanted to watch it. And he had today's sports page out there too, which I reclaimed. Does this sound vaguely familiar yet?"

"Yeah, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, we love sports, what can I say?" McCormick smirked. In the back of his mind he was busy piecing together the afternoon's mystery or attempting to. And he realized he'd never gotten an answer to where they had found Milt. "So you fell in the gatehouse?"

"No, I didn't fall in the gatehouse. I went back to _my_ house. Sheesh."

"A little bit of the Keystone Kops huh? "He's looking inside while your outside and then you go around the back, when he comes out the front." McCormick couldn't help but laugh.

"Is he living with me just to be your watchdog McCormick, because I don't want that?"

"No," Mark said with a pause, "He's living with you because he cares about you Hardcase, just like the rest of us," Mark paused and exhaled, "He's doing really great living with you. Growing up, maturing."

"Oh don't go making me out to be some sort of saint, kiddo," Milt turned his head away for the moment. "It's a two way street. I learned that a long time ago myself."

"Well, where did you fall then?" McCormick was tiring of trying to guess.

"I'm trying to tell you. I went back inside, through the back just like you said, I made myself a sandwich and a glass of milk and then headed into the den."

"And you were still carrying the DVD and the paper no doubt?"

"It's not like I was carrying hundreds of pounds McCormick." Milt nodded the affirmative, "I heard Molly pull up in her car while I was in the kitchen and I could hear her and Mitch talking out front, but I didn't know what they were saying. And I never counted on Anna hiding out in the den. She scared the devil out of me, jumping out like that from behind the sofa, knocking over the floor lamp. Screaming 'Hi Ho Silver.' I dropped everything I had in my hands and I think I slipped on the newspaper as I came down the stairs. The glass from the milk and the plate shattered and I must have hit my head against the shards as I hit the floor, that's how I cut open my forehead. The ribs, well, I'm 88, stuff like that just happens."

McCormick was flabbergasted by the whole story. "Well, I guess I'm not much of a lawyer. I completely exonerated the smallest witness, without even asking her a question. Who would have thought a six-year-old could do so much damage?"

"Yeah, that'll teach you McCormick. I thought I taught you that lesson a long time ago, the most innocent looking faces can tell you the most information."

The door pushed open and Christy stood in the doorway, "Can I come in?"

Milt nodded from the bed, "Of course Christy," he said. "I'm not on my deathbed here."

She walked over to Mark and put her hand around his waist and kissed him on the cheek. "The kids wanted me to find out how you are." She reached her other hand over to Milt's and gave him a squeeze. "So how are you?"

"I'm fine and I'm ready to get out of here. McCormick, can you see if they'll release me. I hate sitting around in hospitals," Milt said.

"We need to have a talk with our children," Mark said to Christy.

"Another one?" Christy said, heavy on the sarcasm, "Will the talks ever end? What exactly did they or didn't they do now?"

"This might be a repeat performance. We need to dig out the one about telling the whole story. Not just the part you want people to hear, while you avoid the important stuff."

"This sounds like Anna Kate," Christy wondered.

"You got it, she's a little light on all the facts this afternoon. And poor Mitch thought for sure he was to blame," McCormick said.

"Hey, don't forget he had the DVD and the sports page," Milt added.

"Incidentals Judge. The real blame here is six year old who needs to cut down on the screaming and scaring games. And while we're at it, we should mention cell phones, family priorities, and changing your shoes when you're told to."

Christy could only begin to imagine the afternoon her husband had been having. "But you're okay Milt?"

"Yeah, I will be, everything will heal up, and I really don't want the two of you to blame anybody for this. It's just an accident, understand?"

"Listen, I'm going to go tell the kids that you're all right," Christy said.

"And I'll go see if the doctor will let you go home," Mark added, "I'll be right back."

Hardcastle gave them both a nod as they walked out together.

Outside of his room, the two of them took the private moment to talk to one another. "I'll take him back to Gulls Way and I'll stay over there tonight, if that's okay with you?" Mark started.

"Of course Mark, I was going to suggest the same thing. I'll have a little chat with Anna Kate too."

"Yeah, don't forget the other ones too, all of them need to hear it," Mark began. "She's something else. According to the Judge, she was hiding out behind the couch and she jumped out and scared him, he dropped what he was carrying, and slipped down the stairs."

"She's been doing that sort of thing a lot lately, and we'll have to put an end to it right now," Christy said. "She jumped out and scared Molly while she was curling her hair and Molly burned her scalp. I'm sure it's something she picked up from school."

"I'll walk out there with you and then I'll get him checked out. He could use a few extra minutes of peace and quiet anyway," Mark said.

They walked into the waiting area and all five of the kids quickly got to their feet and gathered around.

"How's Grandpa?" Mitch was the first one in line wanting to know.

"He's gonna be fine," Mark said, with a genuine smile. "He's going to be checked out in a little while and I will take him home. And the rest of you will go home with Mom and have a nice little chat with her, understand?" They all nodded somberly, knowing they had a lesson to learn.

"Daddy, I think I scareded him," Anna Kate admitted.

"Yeah, we finally figured it out Dad," James said. "We knew she had something to do with it."

"She's been jumping out and doing that to everyone lately," Molly added. "It's not funny anymore."

"I'm sorry Daddy, I didn't mean to. I love Grandpa."

"At least I won't get blamed for this, I was with Dad," Jack said.

"Daddy, can I see Grandpa before you take him home?" Anna Kate asked.

"We all want to see him," Mitch said.

"No, now the visiting will wait until tomorrow," Christy interjected, "Gather up your stuff, we're going to go home. Dad and Mitch will get Grandpa home safe and sound."

They obeyed their Mom and packed up their belongings and gave hugs to Mark and then headed for their home.

"Mitch, why don't you head home too, Grandpa and I will be there in a little while," Mark said.

"Okay Dad, I'll start up some dinner for the three of us."

"Um, we should probably have something a little less volatile than pizza. I'm not sure Grandpa can take the spicy sausage right now."

"I wasn't going to get us a pizza. I took out some chicken breasts out of the freezer earlier, I was going to fix us up something nice. I even concocted a marinate for them."

"Since when do you cook?" Mark was astonished.

"I've always liked to cook Dad, I just never told anyone."

Mark tried to quell his surprise, "Sounds great Mitch. We'll be home soon."

OOOOO

They got to Mark's car, with Hardcastle arguing about not needing a wheelchair, but McCormick refusing to let him walk on his own. Now Mark was helping him get upright and into the car. "Alright Judge, easy going, you know you shouldn't be jostling those ribs around."

"Would you quit babying me McCormick, I've busted ribs before, I'm fine, I just want to get home." Mark had his arm near the small of the Judge's back, but he quickly let his hand fall to his side as he was reprimanded. "Are we gonna stop somewhere and get some burgers? I'm hungry and I know you and that boy of yours eat like horses."

"Very funny and very shrewd Judge. Is this your sly way of telling me about my son's new found talent? How long have you known this?"

"You're babbling again kiddo."

Mark nodded. "All right then, how's this? No to the burgers, Mitch is going to cook. In fact, he's probably started by now. He mentioned something about marinating some chicken breasts."

Milt nodded and got himself situated into the car. "He's a helluva cook, McCormick. He can run rings around you and Christy too. Don't tell her that though. He's got a real knack for it. I'm trying to nudge him into culinary school. Maybe he'll be on that Food Channel one of these days." He looked over to a surprised McCormick. "Oh, don't look so surprised, everyone's got some sort of talent, discovering what it is, that's the trick."

"How'd you ever find this out?" Mark asked him.

"He made me an omelet one morning that I still can't even describe. Best I've ever had. Since then, he's just been surprising me pretty much on a daily basis. He's just got to get his GED first, then I can introduce him to a guy I know down at the Culinary Institute."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with his lawn and garden duties."

"Now you're cookin'"

"No, I'd say, now he's cookin'"

OOOOO

Mark carried the dishes back into the kitchen where Mitch had started to stack up the dishwasher. "That was terrific Mitch. What a meal! Now wonder why the Judge is putting on weight. I thought it was just him loafing around here, but now I know it's your cooking."

"Thanks Dad."

Mark wanted to continue the conversation. "You found that recipe in a book huh?"

"No, I told you, I made it up myself. I experimented with a little of this and a little of that. You know, sort of like a Michael Jordan move here in the kitchen."

McCormick laughed, "It was a pretty good slam dunk, that's for sure," Mark added.

"You know all the grounds keeping around here really makes you work up an appetite too. I asked Grandpa if I could start a vegetable garden outside and he told me I could. How come you never tried that while you lived here?"

"I guess I didn't have the time for it," Mark began, "I thought about it a few times though." McCormick was amazed that he was having a normal conversation for a change with his 19 year old son.

"Yeah, you guys were always out chasing down some lunatic. He told me about one last week that I've never heard before."

"Yeah, which one and what version did he tell?" Mark grinned.

"He said he had to pretend to shoot you in order to take down some motorcycle cops he used to work with."

Mark thought back to the Georgia Street Motors and nodded, "Yep that happened."

"Grandpa said he had to think about that long and hard and it just about tore him up to have to do that to you. And after they had left you lying there, he said the waiting back here for you to come home, just about killed him. He had to believe that he had used blanks, but he said you were so damn convincing that you'd really been shot. Then he joked and said you should have gone into acting."

"That sounds like Grandpa."

"Neither one of you are strangers to this dying thing."

"No Mitch, we're not strangers to this _living_ thing," Mark corrected him.

"Dad, sometimes I can't even imagine the stuff you guys did. You're so much alike it's scary. None of the stories I hear about you and him seem real. You both seem so, I don't know, normal I guess. You really changed."

"And that's thanks to your Grandpa in there, he saw something in me that I never saw, and he helped me find it in myself."

Mitch was quiet and then he said, "I really like living here Dad. I know what you mean about Grandpa too. I'm sure glad he's not seriously injured. I was really worried when I saw him lying in there bleeding all over the place. I'll admit I was scared."

McCormick knew exactly what he was talking about. Hardcastle still had the knack. "All's well that ends well. I got him settled in the den. He's refusing to go to bed at 7pm, nothing unusual there, even though he could use the rest. He's going to watch 'The Cowboys.' He's waiting for you and me to get in there."

"I like that movie. I've seen it about a dozen times now. Don't tell Grandpa, but I never really cared for John Wayne all that much until I moved in here. Now I like his movies," he paused, "Or maybe I just like watching them with him."

McCormick could certainly relate to that sentiment. "Well, before he starts barking at us, let's get the dishes loaded and get in there."

OOOOO

"Grandpa, I brought in the video basketball game. After the movie, do you want to play?"

"Sure, maybe I'll even take on your Dad. He thinks I can't beat him in basketball anymore. Bet he doesn't know how to play this one, does he?" Milt asked.

"He's played before, but he's not very good at it. He doesn't have the thumbs for it," Mitch laughed.

Mark felt like he was getting ganged up on so he fired back. "That's not _real_ basketball."

"McCormick, I got twenty that says I can beat you, what do you say about that?"

Mark looked from Hardcastle over to his son. "I say, let's turn off the movie and play the game."

Five games and five losses later, Mark finally conceded and turned over the unit controller over to Mitch, who was more than happy to engage his Grandfather in a _real_ game. Mark got up and went outside to call his wife.

"How's it going hon?" she asked when she heard his voice. "How's Milt doing?"

"He's doing fine, actually better than fine. I tell ya, you'd never know he was 88 and had just spent the afternoon in the emergency room. We're all doing fine. We had a great dinner."

"Let me guess, pizza?"

"No, not hardly. Did you know our son can cook?" Mark still carried a surprised tone in his voice.

"Mitch?" she asked, just as surprised as Mark had been.

"Yeah, that one. He's like a chef in the making. Who knew? I'm not exaggerating Christy, he totally cooked up dinner for the three of us. He didn't even use a cook book, he just made it up himself. It was like eating at that fancy bistro you like to go to. According to Hardcase, he's been doing this for months. Did you know any of this?"

Christy could hear the pride in his voice. "No, I didn't know that."

"I think him moving in with the Judge was a good idea. I mean, he made such good decisions today and tonight, I've actually had a normal conversation with him, no fighting, no raised voices."

"That's wonderful Mark."

"Listen, I better get back inside. I had to call and tell you and say goodnight. How's everything at home?"

"We're all fine. I've spoken with Anna Kate, but I think she'll need to hear it from you too."

She heard him snicker, "You know, we thought we've had problems with Mitch. I bet by the time Anna Kate is 19, we'll be ready to toss her off a bridge."

"That's not going to happen. We'll get through it like we always do."

"Yeah, with a little help from a friend named Hardcastle," Mark answered. "I need to remind him that he needs to stick around for another 88 years or so."

"Knowing Milt he will."

The door from inside opened up and Mitch called out into the darkness. "Dad, you gotta come in here and see this replay. You won't believe the shot Grandpa just threw down. And he's claiming he actually scored the same way in a game against you for real."

"I'll be right there Mitch. I'm just saying goodnight to Mom." The door closed and Mark spoke once more to Christy. "Did you hear that? He called me Dad without having that disgusted sound in his voice."

"Yes I heard, you better get back inside. Maybe today wasn't so bad after all?"

"Maybe, I could have done without the hospital visit. But you're right, this has been quite an eye-opening day."

The door opened again. "DAD, come on, tell her you love her and you'll see her tomorrow."

"I gotta go sweetheart," Mark said, "I love you and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Very original Mark, I love you too. Have a good night. Give Milt and Mitch my love."

"I will."

McCormick hung up the phone and went back inside. "All right, what kind of nonsense is going on in here Judge. If you're trying to tell Mitch that you ever played like Magic Johnson, you have got another thing coming. Let's see this replay."

"Listen kiddo, when you see it, you're going to know I did it and exactly when I dropped it down on you." Hardcastle was suddenly talking like he was 18 and not 88. He gave Mitch a wink.

Mitch replayed the maneuver over and over for both of them to see.

"You remember that one, don't cha McCormick?" The Judge began, "Right out here, when we were playing to see who'd go after that Black Widow, what was her name?"

"Her name was Tina Grey."

"Yeah, yeah, but you remember this play right? With you ending up on your backside?"

McCormick didn't want to admit it but it was true.

Mitch was laughing hysterically out loud, trying to imagine his grandfather laying out his own father. "Man, I wish I would have seen that."

"It's not that funny," Mark tried to say.

"Yes it was," Hardcastle shot in, "And what was even funnier was you thinking that Tina Grey was on the up and up."

Mitch stood up from the chair. "You guys are too much for me, I'm beat and I have school tomorrow, so I'm going to bed. I'll leave the game in here just in case you want to play again." He made his way over to both of them and gave them each a hug. "Goodnight Dad, goodnight Grandpa."

"Judge, I'm sorry about Anna Kate," Mark began. "I guess they read a story about the Lone Ranger at school, she was excited to tell you something you already knew about."

The Judge quickly waved his hand, "Don't even start McCormick, I told you it was an accident. It's over, look at me, I'm fine."

"Well, while I'm trying to be serious here, I'll keep at it," he paused, "It looks like you have a real knack with Mitch too."

"Like I had with you?" The Judge cracked. "Look McCormick, I'm not running the Father Flannigan/Milt Hardcastle School for wayward boys here. I'm not doing anything but being myself. He's the one doing the work"

"I think you could start up a school if you want if you wanted to."

"Well, I don't want to, I'm…"

Mark interrupted, "88, I know, I've heard that all day. Are you campaigning for a birthday cake or something?"

"You two are so much alike, it's scary," Milt said to Mark.

"Mitch just said the same thing about you and me earlier, in the kitchen, when we were cleaning up."

"He'll be just fine. Look at how well you turned out."

"Is that a compliment? After all these years? Judge, I'm touched."

"Yeah, I know you're touched. And no, it's not a compliment wise guy, it's the truth." They avoided eye contact so they didn't have to see the smile on the other ones face.

"Well you need to stick around at least another 88 years, Christy and I just decided that."

"Why's that?"

"So you can make sure our grandkids turn out fine."

"I'll see what I can do," Hardcastle groused. "Press that button on the controller, let's play again," Milt pointed out. "I bet you got another twenty in your pocket that you want to give me tonight, don't you?"

"You're on. I gotta win one of these or at the very least I have to figure out how to do that Tina Grey shot on you."

"Watch and learn, McCormick, watch and learn."

The End.


End file.
